


Left Brain, Right Brain

by LamBams (forfitzsimmons)



Series: The Other 51 Hamilton Challenge [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hamilton References, Left Brain Right Brain, Meta, Musical References, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychology, References to Depression, Survivor Guilt, Therapy, questionable science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-19 04:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forfitzsimmons/pseuds/LamBams
Summary: James just barely recalled the moment he met Thomas. When Alexander was born and they had finally become conscious beings, they’d looked at each other. Even as a baby, something in James immediately recognized Thomas as a fact. He would always be there. They would always be a pair. No questions asked.Thomas would never forget the instant he met James. They hadn’t had names then, neither Left Brain and Right Brain nor James and Thomas, but Thomas knew he loved him. It was the first thing he’d ever felt.orJames doesn't trust his counterpart to help him direct Alexander after Thomas abandoned them post-hurricane. Thomas doesn't trust that James is always right about Alexander's needs. It escalates.&Alexander finally slows down enough for the effects of his childhood to sneak up on him just in time for him to meet John Laurens.





	Left Brain, Right Brain

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Left Brain, Right Brain](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/357714) by Original Creator: Bo Burnham; Video Creator and Animator: Jasmin McPines. 



> Somehow this ended up kind of meta?? Like, Thomas and James' issues have an impact on Alexander's issues and vice versa. It was really interesting to write this one. I did my best to keep Thomas and James as in character as possible while making it work with how they would act in this verse. 
> 
> Please note I'm not a licensed professional, counselor, or even a person who likes science. Somehow this just ended up involving Alex having PTSD/Depression/Survivor's Guilt/??? but I am only familiar with the second and I doubt this is a great representation of it. Also, I tried not to make it sound like John's love fixed all Alex's problems, so hopefully it doesn't come off that way.

James just barely recalled the moment he met Thomas. When Alexander was born and they had finally become conscious beings, they’d looked at each other. Even as a baby, something in James immediately recognized Thomas as a fact. He would always be there. They would always be a pair. No questions asked.

When James thought Alexander was hungry, Thomas would have him cry for attention. When Thomas noticed Alexander was bored, James would direct him towards anything of interest, from blocks to toys to books. They were a team that grew stronger as Alexander grew older.

When James Sr. left, Thomas—and thus Alexander—cried. James assured him it’d be okay. They were better off without him. They calmed and James breathed easy.

When Alexander and his mother fell ill, they both felt the effects. James promised Thomas they’d make it, though sometimes he wasn’t so sure himself. James had been right, on one count. Alexander recovered. His mother did not.

Things changed. Thomas was…absent. The only time he expressed himself was when Alexander succeeded, when James made him work. The gratification Thomas gave James and Alexander was intoxicating and he thought he could fix them, both Thomas and their charge, if he kept helping Alexander become better. He buried Alexander in work to continue the cycle of learn, work, succeed, feel satisfied.

Then, the hurricane happened. No matter how much James tried to distance Alexander from it, even he knew it was horrific, traumatic to watch people he’d known his whole life drown, to see the bodies wash up on the beach, to be whipped around like a leaf in the wind. Thomas was hysterical, the most emotional James had seen him be in years, but he was weak from inaction. James made sure sense took over as he directed Alexander to safety.

That paper was their last co-op. Thomas was endlessly distressed, so James channeled it. Alexander wrote and wrote and wrote until the words stopped hurting. James thought he’d fixed it, but there was no spark of gratification, no satisfaction that always came with a finished piece. James looked to Thomas, but found him gone. He’d left James feeling bereft and cold. He was alone now.

James and Alexander stopped working for satisfaction. No, now they needed it. They needed it to fill the hole Thomas left. They needed to work to ignore that great big something that should’ve been there, that fact that was suddenly not true. James got them out of the Caribbean, sick and tired of the emptiness it brought them. Sometimes, he imagined a ghost of Thomas curled up in a corner, but the ghost never responded to anything.

It wasn’t until college that Thomas finally, _finally_ gained his color and his form back. The ghost had been him. Now, he was full to bursting with all the emotions he’d held back in the wake of Alexander’s tragedies. This bounce-back didn’t change anything. The fact was, Thomas was unreliable. If shit hit the fan, he’d be gone and James would pick up the pieces again. It was a fact, one that wouldn’t be proven wrong.

James was the left brain. Logic. Reasoning. That was him. He dealt in facts and the fact was no fact had been a bigger lie than Thomas. James would have to help Alex fend for himself on his own. There was no grudge to be had, just facts to consider, when he determined Thomas to be untrustworthy. They used to be a team, so in-sync it was breathtaking, but that was no longer. Thomas was no longer needed.

#

It wasn’t long after sleep had claimed Alexander that he was up again, filled to the brim with coffee. It was still dark outside but, for once, Alexander took a moment to breathe.

“Wait, what?” James noted Alexander’s odd behavior. “Right Brain, what did you do?”

“Morning, James!” Thomas pranced in looking like Alexander had given him all his caffeine.

“I told you not to call me that.” James gestured to the situation. “Alexander should be working already. Why is he just sitting there?”

Thomas smiled brightly. “He’s enjoying the morning! James—Left, buddy, friend, pal—”

James frowned further. “We’re none of those things. Get to the point.”

Thomas huffed, “Jemmy, he’s got to relax or he'll run himself into the ground.”

“Yeah, haven't you noticed that's what he wants? Isn't that your job, to give him what he wants?” James turned to fully face Thomas, hands on his hips and irritation on his face.

Thomas got up close and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “No, my dear Left Brain, I give him what he needs! He _needs_ to take it easy.”

James jerked away. “Doubtful. He could work harder than this.”

Thomas gasped and wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you dare even consider it! Just look! His serotonin and oxytocin are rising, stress falling, a genuine smile is on his face.”

“Good. He'll be ready to get back to work.”

“Is work all you ever think about?”

“In the end, it's all that matters, Right. How's he supposed to leave a legacy without working for it?”

“He slept for less than an hour, Left!” Thomas frowned when he just got a shrug in response. “You're impossible!”

“No, I’m responsible. You’re lazy, crazy, and an all-around idiot.”

“You’re the idiot!” he responded childishly. “You never give him any time to process.”

“I miss when you were catatonic. You did a great job of helping him process then.”

“I was _protecting_ him from trauma, but now he’s strong enough—”

“To move the hell along and get his work done. I helped him write himself off that island and _I’m_ the one who’ll make him great.”

“Yeah, a great asshole.”

“Better an asshole than a failure.”

“Better a human than a husk,” he threw back. “I can give as good as I get, you know.”

“I didn’t, actually,” he said. “Considering you've done nothing but cry and cower until I got us to America, I can't be blamed for assuming your incompetence.” James eyed him with obvious contempt. “Frankly, I'm still not convinced.”

Finally, Alexander downed the rest of his coffee in one go and grabbed his laptop. The kid had an essay due at the end of the semester so he needed to start on it now. James knew how important work was to Alexander, so he made sure to keep him as productive as possible.

Except, Alexander sat there with a frown on his face. James scowled and turned back to Thomas.

“Right, stop messing with my work.”

Thomas was wearing the same frown as Alexander. “Why? What’s the point? He's already where he needs to be. He can take it easy, can't he? Just for awhile. You’re gonna destroy him and yourself!”

“Like you did?” James had had it with Right Brain. “Remind me, who was it who left Alexander on his own? You didn’t do anything for _years_ , so don’t lecture me on what’s best for him. You left me to take care of him on my own and I’ve done a damn good job of it.”

To James' horror, Thomas started to tear up. He looked back to Alexander and found him tearing up too.

“Dammit,” James muttered. “I’m sorry, Right Brain. Look, I'm just trying to say I know him better. I’m not holding a grudge—I don't hold grudges. That's your thing!” His words didn’t seem to be reaching.

Thomas curled himself into a ball and James could sense Alexander heading towards a breakdown. James took to Thomas’ side and reluctantly put a hand on his shoulder. The moment he did, he knew he’d made a mistake.

James had just caught the gleam in Thomas’ eyes before he was being thrown to the ground. His breath was knocked out of him as Thomas went to stand above him. A vicious smile painted his face.

“You’re right, Jemmy-James,” he said, “holding grudges _is_ my thing.”

James watched helplessly as he commanded Alexander to go back to sleep. The bastard turned back to smirk at him. James only thought one thing.

“This means war, Right.”

#

Alexander wasn’t doing so well. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was so all over the place lately. One minute he’d be perfectly fine working on this or that assignment and the next he’d be unable to concentrate. He felt terribly moody despite getting more sleep than usual.

So, when Samuel fucking Seabury said the dumbest shit Alexander had ever heard, he jumped at the chance to set him straight. It was cathartic.

Meanwhile, James knew _exactly_ what was wrong with Alexander. He was staring the problem right in the face. He and Thomas had been having a vicious back and forth that had to be putting a strain on their charge. Still, Thomas refused to budge despite giving him every logical argument.

“You really consider this helping?” he tried. “Alexander is going through ridiculous mood swings now.” He gestured to the poor kid currently getting demolished by a cranky Alexander in his history class. “Now, you’re the one hurting him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him expressing his feelings.” Thomas idly admired his nails. “You’ll have to get used to him having emotions, Left Brain. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, well—” A sudden wave of dizziness fell over him. His vision blurred. His thoughts felt scrambled. His knees gave out and made him tumble to the ground. “What the hell?”

James looked to find Alexander’s vision filled with a freckled face and curly hair. He glanced back to see Thomas on his knees, staring through Alexander’s eyes. He also seemed dizzy, what with the way he was swaying back and forth. Thomas jerked his gaze to James and rushed over to him.

“James,” he yelled right in his ear. “I need your help.”

Did he just hear him right? Did overdramatic, grudge-holding Right Brain just ask for his help? “What?” He massaged his poor, abused ear.

“Alex _likes_ him, the cute one with the curly hair. We could get them together.”

James shook his head. “He doesn’t need the distraction.”

“Please!” Thomas begged, “Please! I promise to stop giving Alex mood swings if you help. With my charm and your wit, that boy won’t stand a chance.”

James considered the offer. It _would_ be nice if Thomas stopped messing with Alexander’s emotions just to get back at him. He weighed the pros and cons. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

Thomas stood and then helped him up with ease. James was forced to hold onto his shoulders to stay steady. “You alright there, Left?”

“Yeah, I think. Everything feels all garbled.”

“That’s called _attraction_ , silly,” he teased. “It makes the both of us a little dizzy.”

“So, you’re doing this?”

Thomas shook his head. “Can’t force this stuff. It’s involuntary for me too. I just handle it better.” He kept a hold on his waist. “Take a moment to gather your wits—oh, not too long though. Alex seems to be having some trouble.”

“Uh—uh, hi. I’m Alexander Hamilton.” Alex stuck his hand out at the really cute guy. Alex couldn’t stop admiring the constellation of freckles that decorated his face and how his curls almost brushed his eyes.

Cute Guy smiled and Alex happily died a little. “John Laurens,” he responded, shaking his hand. “You were pretty great up there. That kid had no idea what he was talking about.”

James perked up. This was good. This was a segue into familiar territory. “You know what to say, Alexander.”

“I just thought it was terrible that this kid didn’t even know Washington was the first president. I mean, how could you have made it to college not knowing anything about history? If you don’t know your history—”

John finished for him, “You’re doomed to repeat it.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed. “Yeah, exactly.”

Thomas jumped in. “This is your chance, Alex.”

Alex let his words all out in a rush, “Would you like to get coffee with me?”

“Yeah!” John paused and then frowned. “You’re not a Starbucks kind of guy, are you?”

“Hell no. Like I’d ever pay to put their overpriced beans in my body.”

“Good! Libertea then?”

“I love that place!”

“Wow,” James commented, “they’re a perfect match.”

“Told you this was a good idea.” Thomas grinned. James couldn’t help but appreciate this more helpful side of Right Brain.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with no real heat behind it. He stepped away from Thomas’ hold. “I think I’m good now.”

“Let me know if ya ever need me to hold you again, Darlin’” he teased.

James rolled his eyes at him. Some things would probably never change. Thomas being ridiculous was one of those things. “Wait, since when do you have a Southern accent?”

#

James knew things had been going too well. Logically, based on Alexander’s life, things would go well for a while before going up in flames. It was a fact. A certainty built into his psyche. It was something James knew, but he was aware there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was simply inevitable.

The day started normally enough. He fought with Thomas about when to wake Alexander up, won the argument by reminding Thomas about John, and proceeded to have his way for the morning. At lunch, he and Thomas helped Alexander put the moves on John Laurens and even convinced him to come by Alexander’s dorm to hang out after class.

Then, it started raining. James could feel Thomas’ anxiety start to interfere with his own thoughts and it was showing on Alexander. James could deal with it. He refocused Alexander on work to distract him and that seemed to do the trick for a while. It wasn’t until the trees started whipping against the windows and the sky started to let out clashes of thunder that everything broke.

Thomas and Alexander both simultaneously curled up into the fetal position. Alexander sought shelter under his desk; Thomas started rocking back and forth. James could feel the red alert going off and did his best to fight it. It was a losing battle but he had to try.

“Thomas? Thomas, it’s okay. We’re okay.” The part of him feeling the anxiety attack was disagreeing.

“No,” he whined. He pulled at his hair. “No, no, no.”

James tried to shush him. “It’s alright. It’s not a hurricane. We’re safe. Alexander is safe.” He felt tears prick at his own eyes as the panic started to overwhelm him.

He barely registered a knock at the door, but when James looked up he was relieved to see John Laurens dripping rainwater on the carpet. Burr must’ve let him into their dorm. Maybe, just maybe, he could help.

“Alex?” John searched the room for Alexander. His eyes finally landed on him, quivering under the desk. The boy immediately dropped to the floor to join Alexander’s side. “Alex, can you hear me?”

Alexander whimpered and curled further into himself. John took one of his hands and placed it over his much calmer heart. He rubbed little circles into his knuckles before speaking again.

“Breathe with me, okay? In, 1, 2, 3, out, 1, 2, 3…”

James caught on quickly and rushed to mimic John’s actions. “Just breathe on my count, okay?” He made sure to match John’s rhythm. Slowly, Thomas calmed down, and Alexander calmed down with him.

“Right?” James urged him to speak. He didn’t respond, so he tried, “Thomas?”

“Jemmy?” His voice was still shaky, but he was aware of his surroundings now. He grasped onto James and buried his face in his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” James assured him. He found that Alexander was still mimicking Thomas’ movements, having buried himself into John Laurens’ shoulder. “It only makes sense that you’d still associate a rainstorm with the hurricane.”

Thomas huffed, but looked up with a wobbly smile. “You and your sense.”

“Well, what’s feeling without sense?” After a moment of hesitation, James brought Thomas into his arms. “It’s just the same as sense without feeling.”

“Which is?”

James swore that he’d never admit this ever again, even under threat of death. He watched as John gently snaked a hand into one of Alexander’s. He smiled at the scene. “Unbalanced.”

#

Thomas was, as expected, over the moon. “James, James, James, _James_ , we did it!”

He rolled his eyes. “You make it sound like John accepted a proposal, Right Brain. It’s just a date.”

“A date that could lead to another date, and another, and then going steady, and then moving in together, and then getting married, and then having babies—”

James grabbed Thomas’ shoulder to jerk him out of his overexcitement. “You’re skipping ahead a few years. Also, babies? You realize they’re both men, right?”

“They could adopt or do a—what’s it called? A swirl!”

James grimaced. “Stop poking around on my side. You’re making his knowledge sound weird.”

Still, he had to admit, somehow Alexander’s relationship with John had actually upped his productivity. He tended to work more so he could relax with John. Alexander and Thomas still had panic attacks during rainstorms—John couldn’t really fix that—but the work/life balance they’d crafted seemed efficient and James’ new knowledge of how to calm Thomas down helped.

James spared a glance at his companion. He was more competent than he’d given him credit for. Though, who could blame him? The guy danced around like an idiot the second he got excited and it would make Alex start talking at a mile a minute. He never listened unless it served his own agenda. He was selfish, arrogant, emotional, and—and his other half.

Huh. Somehow, he’d missed that observation. How could he _not_ be James’ other half?  It should’ve been more than obvious, as clear as common sense even, but James had let his analysis be tainted by feelings.

Feelings. James had been _feeling_. A spike of panic (another feeling, a feeling he shouldn’t have) lanced through him. Alexander was jerked out of his work by the reaction.

That wasn’t right. If James thought about it, Thomas had been _thinking_ earlier. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. Logic dictates that he, the left brain, was in charge of the thinking and Thomas, as the right brain, was meant to do the feeling.

Thomas stopped dancing and seemed to notice that something was off. “James?”

“Right,” James began, “I’m _feeling_.”

He threw his hands in the air and yelled, “That’s great!” When he saw James’ expression of panic, he dropped his hands. “Or not?”

“I’m the left brain. I’m not meant to feel. I’m supposed to be detached, analytical, not—not _biased_ , and you.” James turned on Thomas, causing the other man to startle. “And you’ve been _thinking_. You’re not supposed to do that!”

He put a hand on James’ shoulder. “Maybe we just rubbed off on each other. It’s okay to have an opinion, James. Alexander has plenty of them.”

“No, no it’s not! His ‘opinions' are based on facts. This isn’t,” he grasped for the words he needed, horror filling him when he couldn’t find them. “I don’t think this is working, Right. I think we should go back to how things were before.”

“What?” he squawked. “We’ve got something really good going here, Jemmy! Think of Alex and how good he’s been doing!”

“No, John is a distraction. I knew it when I saw him.”

Thomas grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare ruin this for him, Left Brain. I mean it. Ruin it and he’ll never do any work again.”

“You think you could stop me?” James got right up in his face. “Alexander is naturally more analytical. I have the advantage here, more power, more say in what happens.”

“You underestimate the power of emotions.” Thomas’ expression went cold and his grip tightened. “You underestimate _me_. Don’t throw this away because you’re scared, James. He’s _happy_. Does that mean nothing to you?”

James jerked his arm back. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “it doesn’t. I care about his work. That’s _my_ job. I shouldn’t have to help you do yours.”

##

Thomas would never forget the instant he met James. They hadn’t had names then, neither Left Brain and Right Brain nor James and Thomas, but Thomas knew he loved him. It was the first thing he’d ever felt.

When Alexander was learning names and forming his own ideas, that was when Thomas decided they should have names too. It felt right, like everything else he’d done.

“You should be James,” he told him. James was fitting. Alexander’s brother and father were named James and Thomas loved them, so the other person he loved should be named James too. “I’ll be Thomas.”

“Why?”

He loved when he asked questions. “I think they’re good names.”

“Why?” he asked again. James was always so curious.

“It just feels right.”

James nodded. “Makes sense.”

Thomas gave him a wide grin and a big hug. “Love you, James!”

James ruffled his hair, which was getting poofier by the day. “I know, Thomas.”

Thomas loved how effortlessly James directed Alexander. He was so smart; he knew exactly what Alexander should be doing. Thomas, on the other hand, was a bit of a mess. He’d get confused and unsure of how and when to express himself, but James helped.

“Hey, Thomas,” he’d say, “Alexander needs food.”

“What?” Thomas would be outraged no one had fed their charge. “I’ll fix that.” He’d channel his outrage to Alexander, cause him to cry out, he’d get fed, and all would be well.

Until it wasn’t. Thomas relied on James being right. He had to be right, it was a no-brainer (hah, get it?). The one time he wasn’t felt like a betrayal. Alexander, Thomas, and James, they all lived, but Mom… She died from the illness that had hit them both. All of Thomas’ favorite people were leaving him one by one. It just _hurt_ so much and he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand knowing Alexander and James could feel his hurt, so he did what he thought was best for everyone. He stopped.

He stopped feeling—well, sort of. He kept all the feelings to himself. All the negativity boiled inside him, but he didn’t bother James or Alex with it. The only time he couldn’t help himself was when James made Alex do something amazing like write a really cool essay or finish a long book. Thomas thought it was the best thing since sliced bread and he could almost feel himself get better as time went on and as he watched James turn Alex into an amazingly intelligent young man.

The hurricane brought that to a screeching halt. God, Thomas would never forget the carnage that hurricane left behind. The bodies on the shores highlighted by the grayness of the sky, painting the beach as a graveyard, the debris in the streets and the thought that this would be the end and _when was the last time he’d told James he loved him?_

James saved them, because of course he did. He was James. Perfect, reliable, intelligent James. Thomas felt no reassurance though, not even after the rain and wind subsided, not after the streets and the beaches were cleared. There could be no fixing someone already as broken as Thomas was.

That paper had been his last try. James helped him channel his feelings into Alex’s writing, but as every word cut deeper, Thomas knew what he had to do. He had to do more than protect his boys from the past; he had to plan for the future too. So, he let Alexander write and write and write until everything Thomas had was in that paper. By the time he was finished, Thomas was gone.

He existed as a mere ghost, just memories of what Alexander once felt. It was better like this, he’d told himself. If Alexander didn’t feel, he’d never hurt. He’d keep doing the amazing things James, his lovely, amazing James, directed him to. It felt like the right decision.

And when Alex got to college, it felt like the right time to resurface. Everything was so new and exciting, he could forget why he’d been gone. Then, he looked at James and he was _different_. James looked through him, like he wasn’t even there. It hurt. It hurt when Thomas looked around to realize Alexander had come this whole way and had no one to share his success with. Alex cried that night for both of them. James was not pleased, but Thomas started not being happy with James either.

James worked poor Alex to the bone. Thomas was happy with his success, but he couldn’t agree with how terribly Alexander had begun to treat himself in Thomas’ absence. Not anymore, he’d told himself. He’d set things straight, even if his beloved James thought he knew better. He’d been wrong before, when it really mattered, so he could be just as wrong now. Thomas wasn’t about to leave that to chance.

#

Thomas had been caught completely unaware when James had made good on his word to take John out of the picture. It was so fucking predictable that Thomas felt stupid for not seeing it coming.

John was nursing a Americano, talking politics like he and Alex often did. “I don't know, ‘Lex. I lived in the south and we need a hell of a lot more gun control from what I can tell.”

Thomas didn't notice what was happening until Alexander snapped, “You're wrong!” He kept on even though he'd startled his boyfriend. “We were able to create this country because we had the ability to fight back! Why do you think the Irish weren't able to declare independence? They had no guns!”

“I didn't say we should take them all away!” John frowned. Thomas paled at the growing argument. Their discussions had never escalated like this.

Finally, he looked to his counterpart. James didn't so much as blink in his direction.

“James,” he hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Fixing things.”

“No, you're breaking them!”

 Alexander stood, almost knocking over his chair. “You want to restrict the rights of the people to defend themselves?”

“Against what?” John jumped out of his seat as well.

“The government!”

Thomas watched in horror as the events wore on and started to feel Alexander's anger. He scrambled to recover.

“No, Alex, it's okay. It's okay if he disagrees with you. You can have a civil discussion—”

“No,” James cut in. He looked straight at Thomas. “John is wrong. How do we treat people who are wrong, Alexander?” He narrowed his eyes. “We correct them.”

John growled, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Alex?” He shook his head and grabbed his coffee. “Fuck it. Call me when you decide to stop being an asshole.”

Thomas sunk to the ground as John marched away. With the adrenaline of the argument over, Alexander was starting to feel Thomas’ side.

Alex sunk back down into his chair, head falling into his hands. “What have I done?”

Thomas couldn't stand the cold regret churning in him. He took the remnants of anger and whirled on James.

“ _You_ , you selfish, idiotic, piece of trash, how could you?” He threw himself into James’ face. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you incapable of being civil?”

“Civility won't get him anywhere,” he said. The evenness of his voice only enraged Thomas more.

“You’re doing this just to spite me!” He clenched his fists. “You know what? Fuck you. You want me gone so badly, I'll be glad to go.” He shook his head. “Y’know, the moment we met, the second Alex was born, I _loved_ you and you _knew_ that.” Hot, angry tears stung his eyes. “Every time I said it you'd say _I know_ and I thought that was just your _I love you_ , but you never even liked me did you?” James looked like he was about to speak, but Thomas bulldozed past him. “Well congratu-fucking-lations, because I hate you!”

##

What? All the color seemed to drain out from the world. Everything tipped over, leaning off a precipice, dangerously unbalanced.

“What?” James was frozen in place, staring wide-eyed at Thomas.

“That's right,” he spat in his face. “I hate you. I hate that you’re so fucking smart, but that you can't get your head out of your ass long enough to see what you're doing. I hate that you think you know everything. I hate that I ever loved you.”

If James could die, that would've been the nail in his coffin. Every _I hate you_ broke a piece of him. Thomas loved him. That was a fact. It had to be a fact.

“You—you don't mean that,” he replied. “You always—you'd never—”

“Well, I do.”

“No.” James needed Thomas to take it back. “No, you—you love me! That’s a fact. I know it is.”

“It was,” he said. He shoved James away. “Not anymore.”

James fell to his knees and watched helplessly as Thomas wisped away into nothing. Another fact proven wrong.

#

It was cold. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones and stayed there. Without even the ghost of Thomas, everything was empty and frigid. James moved Alexander along, but it was pointless. Everything was pointless.

James knew, logically (and wasn't there some cruel irony there?), that crying would help, but he couldn't make it happen. He wasn't sure how Thomas did it. He couldn't even remember what it felt like. The moment Thomas vanished, things stopped making sense.

James tried to make it work, to make Alexander work, but no amount of achievements satisfied them. No won debate, no brilliant essay, it was never enough. It was mind-numbing at best, but that in itself was enough reason to keep going.

James knew he should have Alexander talk to John. He knew, but, again, he couldn’t make either himself or Alexander do it. So, he just didn’t. He'd let Alexander blankly stare at him from across the classroom as James wondered how he could've fucked up so royally.

Where did he go wrong? He was just looking at facts. Thomas was finicky and unreliable. That had been proven, with the present as a prime example.

Yet, he knew he was wrong. But about what? He turned the issue over probably a few hundred times, but he had less than nothing to show for it, just more emptiness and cold bones.

James curled into a ball one night, Alexander following suit. That was something Thomas did when he was sad, right? Hugging himself was supposed to be comforting, wasn't it?

It didn't seem to do anything, so James just directed Alexander to sleep. He slept a lot now, Thomas would want that, but he never felt rested or rejuvenated, just more tired. Coffee couldn't fix it either. The dreams they had probably didn't help.

He couldn't remember any of them. They were all just out of reach when Alexander woke up, but he recalled a nothingness greater than he'd ever known, a clawing hunger to be satisfied.

Without Thomas, they would never be satisfied.

“I'm sorry,” he said to no one, because no one else was there. “I'm sorry.” It echoed around the void he existed in (alone, he'd always be alone now, that was a fact). “I’m sorry,” he whispered, like maybe if he said it enough, Thomas would hear him. The only one who heard him was himself.

One day, John came to them. “Alex?” He put a hand on his shoulder, barely getting his attention. Paying attention was hard nowadays.

John looked worried and sad, his bottom lip getting chewed to death between his teeth. John didn't deserve to be sad. It was James’ fault this all happened; he was too damn smart for his own good.

“Alex?” he tried again. “Can we talk?”

Alexander nodded. James knew what he needed to say. He needed to apologize, to fix what he'd broken, but he wasn't sure how. He'd tried saying sorry to Thomas every night for the past month and it hadn't gotten him anywhere. How could it do anything for John?

The classroom emptied in a slow trickle, so John sat beside Alexander and waited. Once the room was clear, he took one of Alexander's hands.

“Are you okay?” He rubbed back and forth between his knuckles. “We haven't talked since our fight—which was stupid and I should’ve been the bigger person instead of blowing you off—you’ve been weird. Distant.” He frowned. “You don't even get excited about debate or writing anymore. You just do them like you have to, like you're just doing it because you need it to survive.”

And there it was. He’d had been right, they were perfect for each other. John picked apart Alexander’s whole mood so easily. Why did James ever want to ruin this?

A spark hit him. Tears ran down Alexander’s face. James turned every which way to find Thomas.

“Thomas?” he yelled. He spotted a figure, pale and transparent. The ghost. He ran to it. “Thomas? Thomas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, come back.”

Alexander couldn’t help the tears falling down his cheeks. He hadn’t cried this whole time. He couldn't, but now he could do only that. John, his beautiful, wonderful John, the man he didn't deserve to even look at, held him. The external warmth helped fight off the internal cold somewhat.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I'm sorry, John. I don’t know why I—I didn’t mean to—” He could hardly finish a sentence he was crying so hard.

John pulled him closer, shushing him. He ran a hand through Alex's hair. “It's okay, Darlin'. I've got you.”

“I don't know what's wrong with me,” he said. “I can't feel anything anymore, John. I'm just—nothing. I'm just nothing.”

James didn’t want the nothing anymore. He couldn't stand the cold emptiness one more second.

“Thomas, please.” The ghost refused to respond. “I'm begging, Thomas. Come back.” He tried to touch the ghost, shake him into reality, but his hands went right through him. “Please. I swear we can work as a team this time. I can't do this without you.” He drew in a sharp breath. “I can't do this alone. I'm unbalanced.”

Thomas still didn't answer.

#

Thomas’ ghost faded in and out, but at least James knew he still existed. It was a comfort, if a small one. He still desperately wanted his companion back, but this would have to be enough.

James helped Alexander explain everything to John. He explained his dad, his mother, the hurricane, everything. It was actually a bit easier without Thomas making it emotional, but the phantom pangs of pain didn't escape James.

John suggested counseling. “It really helped me work through my issues. My dad wasn’t the greatest.” He grimaced. James reveled in the little flash of outrage Thomas sent out at the thought of someone hurting John. “I can’t say it’ll fix anything, but you might feel better after.”

James and Alexander’s pride wanted to say no, wanted to say it would take time away from work, but they agreed. James was desperate for anything that might bring Thomas back.

##

There was an odd tugging sensation. It felt like someone was trying to pull on him, drag him out. Out of where? Thomas wasn’t sure.

“Thomas?” a voice asked. “Thomas? Can you hear me? Please, come back.”

Warmth washed over him and he opened his eyes. The first thing he registered was James. His counterpart was kneeling over him, an odd look in his eyes. “James?”

“Oh, thank god,” James said, more emotion in his voice than Thomas expected.

Thomas blinked slowly. Once. Twice. He turned his attention to Alexander and found him in an unfamiliar place, talking to someone.

“Do you think about her often?” The therapist smiled kindly. A nametag with the school logo read _Eliza_.

“I try not to,” Alexander admitted. “Sometimes—sometimes I think that it would’ve been better if it had been her to survive instead, but then I wouldn’t have wanted her to experience the hurricane and it just gets all jumbled in my head.”

Eliza nodded. “That’s understandable. Have you ever heard of survivor’s guilt?”

Thomas gaped. Was Alexander talking about his feelings? He glanced between James and Alex, not believing his eyes.

“Thomas,” James interrupted his thoughts, “I think we should talk.” He had a familiar look to him. The determined one with his feet planted and his chin tilted up, face not giving away anything past his determination. To Thomas, it looked like he was ready to fight.

“About what?” he hissed. “What’s this all about James?”

“Alexander is talking about his problems, so I think we should talk about ours.” James shifted, his posture slumping slightly. “I need you to understand—”

“Need?” Thomas echoed. He raised a brow at him.

“Need,” James confirmed. “Please, let me speak.” He took a long pause. “I shouldn’t have made Alexander yell at John.”

He put his hands on his hips. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“Thomas,” he said in a warning voice that made Thomas scowl. “I’m trying to apologize!”

“Apologies don’t fix anything!”

“Why are you so selfish?” James yelled at him. “You think you’re such a goddamn saint! Don’t you get that your actions have consequences?”

“Look in a mirror sometime, Left Brain,” he shot back. Who did James think he was to say that kind of shit to him?

“You don’t even realize it, do you?” James took in a sharp breath. “You can’t even see what you fucking did, can you?”

“What are you talking about?” Thomas deflated slightly, confused as to where this was going.

“You _left_ , Thomas,” he yelled. He repeated, quieter, “You left. You took everything with you. Twice.”

Thomas frowned and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

James sighed, sounding weary. Thomas noticed the dark bags under his eyes. “When Alexander was born, I took you as a fact. You would always be there. When you said you loved me, I took that as a fact too. I had no reason to doubt that.”

Thomas’ eyes widened. He could feel a dawning horror prickle inside him. “Jemmy—”

James held up a hand. “The first time you left, I—I didn't know what to do so I just moved Alexander along. Nothing was good enough because you weren't there to say it was, so we just kept working, but at least the memory of feeling something was there. I could almost emulate. The second time, this time,” he paused to swallow. “You took everything. You didn't even leave a fucking memory.” James clenched his fists and shook. “It was so cold.”

Had Thomas really caused James to hurt like this? A broken record of _upset upset upset_ ran through him. _Hurt upset hurt cry angry upset hurt_. A mess of devastated feelings filled his head. James just stood there and Thomas realized he was letting him be upset. He looked to Alexander and found him tearing up. Thomas was tearing up too, but from which thing. _Hurricane, mom, James, oh god, it should have been me,  I hurt him, I hurt them, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts._

All three of them cried. After what felt like an eternity, Thomas was finally able to gather his voice. “When we met, I knew I loved you. It felt right. When you spoke, I knew you’d never be wrong. I was always so amazed at how smart you are. Then, when Alex and Mom got sick…” He could tell from the little ‘o’ James made with his lips that he’d figured it out. “You said we’d all be okay. You were wrong and between that and her death, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I just backed off when I noticed Alex was upset all the time and it made things difficult for you. After the hurricane,” Thomas’ voice broke, “I know I should have asked, but I was afraid you’d be wrong again if you told me to stay, that in reality my being there really was a detriment, so I let go to protect you both.”

“I understand that,” James noted. “But what about this time? How would you completely disappearing do us any good?”

Thomas’ barely spoke above a whisper, “I thought you didn’t want me here. You never listened to what I had to say.” He took in a breath. “I—I know I said I hate you, but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. It’s still a fact.”

James bit his lip and Thomas liked to think he was trying not to look hopeful. “You can’t feel both.”

“Yes, I can,” he insisted. “I think I know a little more about the complex thing called emotions than you, James. Just like you know more about facts and reasoning.”

James seemed to consider this. “Ok.”

“Ok?” Thomas wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded promising.

James walked closer until they were mere inches away. After a moment’s hesitation, the smaller man pulled Thomas into a hug. “Ok.”

Thomas buried his face into James’ shoulder and felt the urge to cry. It would be a good cry.

##

 Alexander was exhausted and red-eyed from crying, but he felt lighter than he had in ages. Against his original opinion of seeking therapy, he made another appointment immediately after talking to Ms. Eliza. Maybe this whole ‘sharing your feelings’ thing had some merit to it after all.

Alexander checked the time. He’d be late to his lunch date with John if he didn’t start heading over to Libertea. With that in mind, he picked up the pace into a run, but slowed to a jog when he thought about what Ms. Eliza had said.

_“Try being mindful of your surroundings. Stop and smell the roses, so to speak. It might help slow you down when your mind is running in directions you don’t want it to.”_

Now was as good a time as ever to practice. It was a nice day outside. The air tasted fresh and the wind blew a pleasant breeze onto his face. He’d never really bothered to notice the weather before, but this was nice. Making himself focus on something mundane and peaceful was nice. He was saying nice a lot, wasn’t he? Would dissecting his vocabulary to describe things he wouldn’t usually care about be considered mindfulness? Could he be mindful for essays?

Alexander nearly walked past Libertea with that train of thought. Thankfully, he spotted John through a window and realized he’d been a little less than mindful. He’d work on that when he had time.

A rush of cold air from the air conditioning hit him as he walked inside. The bell over the door jingled and one of the baristas waved hello. He was a regular by now, so they all knew him by name. He almost got into line, but noticed John had a second cup of coffee too big to be his own. God, he loved this boy.

Oh. Alexander aborted his path to John and made for the bathroom instead. He splashed cold water on his face, leaving him shivering under the air conditioner. This was fine. Everything was fine. No reason to panic. I mean, what’s wrong with loving John? He’s amazing, intelligent, gorgeous, kind, funny, and literally everything Alexander could ever want. Why was he so scared?

“Thomas?” James frowned at his companion. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I just realized that he could leave us, that John might leave us.” Thomas looked to James with wide eyes. “I don’t think I could take that, James! If Alex loves him and he leaves—”

“Hey,” he interrupted. James reached out to place a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “We don’t know that he will.”

“Be we don’t know that he won’t!”

“Except,” James said, “There’s data to suggest he wouldn’t leave. Remember when I made them have that argument? They didn’t talk for a month, but John was the one to approach and try to make amends first.”

“Oh.” Thomas took some deep breaths. “But, what if—”

“I feel like we’ve already established that what ifs will only hurt us. What if I’m wrong again? What if you disappear again?” Thomas’ winced at James’ words. “Maybe it’ll happen, maybe it won’t. Logically, there’s a chance of both, but as of right now, I’m leaning towards everything being okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Alexander took a deep breath and made his way back out and over to John. His boyfriend visibly brightened at his presence. His smile could probably power the whole city.

“Hey ‘Lex!” He frowned a little at Alexander’s pale face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alexander responded, “Yeah, I just panicked a little because I realized I love you.”

“Oh, that’s—what?” John looked up at him with wide eyes. He let go of his coffee and stood up on shaky legs. “You…?”

Well, it was too late to take it back. “I love you.” He waited for it to sink in. John’s face seemed to be frozen with his jaw slack and his eyes seeming to search Alexander’s face.

Suddenly, John lurched forward and captured Alexander in a kiss. He only pulled away to say, “That was a ridiculous thing to panic about ‘cause I love you too.”

Thomas would never admit he squealed at the scene, undeterred by the dizziness starting to come over him. He nearly screeched, “James! James, we did it! He loves him, he loves him!”

“Thomas,” James said more calmly, though he was smiling. “I love you.”

“They’re perfect for each—what?”

“I love you,” James repeated. “I thought this would be a good time for you to know.”

Thomas blinked at him, completely stunned. “Why?”

James’ smile quirked up into a little smirk. “It feels right.”

He sucked in a breath. “You love me?”

“Yep.”

“And I love you.”

“I hope so.”

His vision seemed to narrow until he could only see James. He threw himself forward to hug him. Once he’d moved, the dizziness and adrenaline of the moment made them both fall, but Thomas didn’t let go.

“You love me,” he murmured to himself.

“I do,” James assured him. “Against all odds, I really, actually do.”

“Y’know, I’d like to say ‘fuck the odds’ but I’d rather be—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Jefferson and Madison both had a room in their houses for their bestie! They visited each other often, so they both always had a room they could stay in.
> 
> I haven't decided if I'm actually going to write more in this verse, but I figured I'd make a series ahead of time just in case. Well, we'll see how it goes (The Room Where it Happens starts playing in the background). Thanks for reading!


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